Mushrooms ~ The delectable morsels make a great side dish…yes…but this easy, earthy recipe, makes mushrooms a satisfying late-night meal…and a page right out of my childhood.

Start with a generous handful of Chanterelle mushrooms. Saute in good olive oil and butter with a hint of garlic and red pepper flakes…sprinkle with earthy chopped thyme, the freshness of chopped parsley and lemon zest…add a glug of thick Worcestershire and a splash of beer to finish it off.  Break off some rustic bread for mopping…and wash it down with Italian ale.

Mushrooms ~ La Famiglia Bistro Style

The Recipe ~

A good handful of Chanterelle mushrooms (cleaned)

A small garlic clove chopped

A Tablespoon of chopped fresh thyme

Two Tablespoons chopped fresh parsley

Zest of one lemon

Two tablespoons thick Worcestershire sauce

A teaspoon red pepper flakes

Two or so tablespoons good olive oil

A tablespoon of butter

Salt & pepper to taste

A splash or two of Italian beer

Melt the olive oil and butter in a pan…sauté garlic (being careful not to burn), add mushrooms, thyme, parsley, zest, Worcestershire and flakes. Set aside a little parsley and zest to dress the dish at the end. Saute until mushrooms are almost tender then add the beer. It will foam a bit…and the smell is fabulous! Pull from the stove and top with remaining parsley and zest…a hunk of good bread for dipping…heaven!

La Storia ~

Mushrooming ~ Childhood Musings

It’s mushrooming season. A typical wet, fall morning…somewhere…’over THERE’ …in a western Washington forest…exact locations are well guarded.  The air is thick with the smell of damp earth. Boots on, hood up, knife in hand. I’m 8 or 9 years old…foraging for mushrooms with my family…Grandma Nettie in the lead. “You who,” the taunting cry echoes through the mist. Nettie, nickname ‘Hoover,’ (for the vacuum) has sucked up, ‘the motherload’ of ‘Galletti’, as they are called in her Italian homeland…Chanterelles in an upscale market. Grandma deftly cuts the stems…and drops the golden treasures into her bucket…the spill-over tied in her apron…no mushroom is left behind.  On one occasion…my grandmother and I got lost for a time in the forest…turned around in the fog…only to emerge on a completely different side…than we came in. Another close call…Mushrooming season happens to coincide with hunting season…my grandma is wearing a warm coat…with a fur collar…shots ring out…we scream and scamper into the clearing. These are some of my childhood memories…I wouldn’t trade them… for the world.